A Rose Has Thorns
by FutureFaith
Summary: On the outside...they're sweet and charming. On the inside...well, let's just say not everything beautiful has beautiful manners. Hang on, everyone- it's a crazy wild Weasley-ride!


**Hi, everyone! I'm FutureFaith, and this is officially my first Harry Potter fanfic! And of course, I couldn't resist- it had to feature my two favorite characters- Fred and George. I'm not sure how far this is going to go, so don't hold your breath- sophomore year is a pain and my teachers_ I swear_ are in cahoots to kill me. Plus, I've got another entry in the LOSH category and stuff on my laptop that I haven't uploaded yet (darn internet access) so...who knows!? Anyway...to business. These entries will be purely Fred-and-George stuff, mostly funny schemes, no twincest (hey, I'll support any pairing you put in front of me- gay, straight, whatevs- but I just can't write that, I'm sorry. And absolutely no offense to anyone who _can_ write it- some people can, and I'd read it if it was good! I'm just not skillfull enough to write it and make it sound passable) or mature stuff and I'll warn you if there's spoilers *pinky promise*. I hope this is good- it's actually based on a story my dad told me not a half hour ago about a stunt his brothers pulled in high school! Apparently, they had the same teacher two different periods, and one of them decided he wanted to get out of class, and miraculously, the other was quick enough to cover for them both! And I thought- hey, that sounds like something Fred and George would do! So, here it is. Enjoy! Lame title, I know. :)**

**I don't own Harry Potter or the gazillion billion characters that go along with it. If I did, a certain someone would be alive. No comment needed. **

1. Quick Thinking

"Very good, Miss Johnson."

"A little more effort, Mister Thomas."

"Absolutely atrocious, Mister Jordan, I'm not even going to lie."

"And Mr. Weasley…"

The tall, imposing Transfiguration professor clicked her heels across the cold marble floor and came to a stop in front of a slouched redhaired teen. The classroom had erupted in a din and so her next words were unheard.

"Mr. Weasley, is everything alright?" Professor McGonagall had a very uncharacteristic look of concern on her catlike face, and she tapped her nails against the dark mahogany desk.

Fred Weasley looked up at her through dead brown eyes, all of his features seeming to droop down towards the floor under ten times more gravity than the rest of them were experiencing. His books were unopened in his bag, and his shirt was rumpled and untucked. He looked very much as if he had just woken up…and received terribly horrible news.

"Oh…yeah, I'm fine, Professor," he said, a great sigh coming from his chest. He rested is head on his elbows on his desk and proceeded to turn his ink bottle into a cactus plant five consecutive times before she rapped her ruler against his desk furiously.

"Mr. Weasley, I have never seen you so depressed," she scolded, fixing his with eagle eyes behind her glasses. "Do tell me what is wrong."

Fred sighed again, and grudgingly sat up. "It's just that…my grandmother died," he said regretfully, tears welling in his eyes and his voice cracking a bit. "I didn't want to make a big deal with the teachers you know…don't need the others yellin' at me for getting special attention…I just wanted to sit in the common room and…you know, remember her…" he broke up, peering up at Professor McGonagall from under bright orange bangs. Her usual cold demeanor was beginning to break- any student actually bothering to watch their unusual conversation would be quite disturbed.

"…but I decided that coming to class would be more important. You know, gotta pass the OWLs if I want to open my own joke shop…I'll have to transfigure some stuff…my grandmother used to be really good at…_transfiguration!"_ And with that last word, Fred's cheeks turned a bright red color and he gave a loud sniff to hold back his emotions. Professor McGonagall discreetly reached up a hand to wipe her eyes and sniffed as well.

"Well….erm, Mr. Weasley, I, um…I wouldn't be opposed to allowing you to leave class and…get yourself together. I suppose I could…get you out of the rest of the day…if you feel you need to…cope…" she paused.

"Oh, no, Professor, I couldn't," Fred insisted, sitting up and waving his hand. "Grandma would want me in class, I'm sure, I knew her well…"

"I insist, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall drew herself up and strode back to her desk. Returning with a piece of parchment and a no-nonsense quill, she scribbled a quick message and signed her name with a flourish.

"I will send this to Professor Dumbledore and excuse you from the rest of your classes," she told him, unnaturally sympathetic. "Please go get some rest."

"Thank you so much, Professor McGonagall," Fred said gratefully, standing up quickly to collect his things. As he turned to leave, he said, "You know, I think you and Grandma would have been good friends. She was just like you…" he said in a faraway voice, then, with a jerky salute and nod, left the room.

"You're welcome, Fred," Professor McGonagall whispered from beside the desk.

Outside in the hallway, a group of first years scattered as a loud whoop broke the silence and a head of orange hair bounced up and down.

A little later, George Weasley walked into Transfiguration with Katie Bell, discussing the finer points of Professor Snape's obvious lack of hygiene. The class quickly got to business as Professor McGonagall squawked at them to get started changing their desks to sewing machines. George quickly set to work on becoming the daily class clown, 'accidentally' unwinding his spool of thread and chasing it maniacally across the room as he kept tripping. The class was on the floor with laughter until McGonagall made the thread vanish with a brusque wave of her hand and yelled at them to get back to work. As the air filled with the noises of excited squeaks, yells of pain from the fools stupid enough to prick themselves, and grumblings of _When will we get to transfigure animals?! _Professor McGonagall appeared out of nowhere in front of George's desk.

"Mr. Weasley, are you alright?" she asked him. George looked up at her, then around him. Surely McGonagall- hard as a stone stature McGonagall- wasn't asking him if he was _alright! _And in such a voice that reminded him of his…mother?

"Er…yeah, Professor, why do you ask?" he questioned, sensing danger.

"Well, you seem very cheerful," she said, looking at him curiously. "I just wasn't sure if you were…coping in a…different way than your brother. I'm very sorry to hear about your…loss," she finished, clasping her hands and gazing at him pityingly.

"_Huh?!" _he asked before he could stop himself. _Loss? Coping? _Had someone _else_ died and as usual, he didn't know? Wait- this could work to his advantage!

"Your grandmother," McGonagall said, stiffening and squinting her eyes at him. She always did have a nose for trouble.

"My _grandmother?" _George said, scratching his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Your brother told me, practically in tears, this morning, that your grandmother had just died and that he would like some alone time," McGonagall told him, crossing her arms dangerously.

George did a quick mental check. So Fred had told McGonagall that their grandmother had died…when she was quite obviously alive and happy on vacation in Ireland…and she gave him the entire day off. He must have acted really distraught for McGonagall to break down and actually believe him…but their grandmother wasn't really dead, so that meant he was….

George suddenly smiled evilly down at his feet. He looked up with McGonagall with what he hoped was a convincing face.

"Oh, _that!" _he said, chuckling and shaking his head. McGonagall narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, _what?" _she hissed coldly.

"Well, I can see why he would think that! Oh, don't get mad at Fred, Professor, he's always loved Grandma, and it's quite understanding how he could get the wrong information! See, Mum sent us a letter this morning saying that Grandma had gotten burned by one of Charlie's dragons when she was visiting him…complete idiot, that guy…anyway, she said that Gram was in a really bad condition and that she might not make it. Well, Fred took it the really wrong way and I guess he assumed Gram was a goner. I've never seen him like that…it was scary, Professor, it really was! He left right in the middle of breakfast…didn't even finish his bacon, that's how upset he was…and I hadn't seen him all morning! I didn't think that he'd have the nerve to actually go to class!" George laughed, slapping his stomach like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"And you are amused by your brother's reaction?" McGonagall asked, beginning to doubt the twin's sanity.

"Oh, don't take this the wrong way, Professor! No, I was really worried too, of course, I loved- no, love…I love Grandma! But I stayed at breakfast a little longer, you know, waiting to break the news to Ginny and Ron…they always sleep in so late, the bums…and then Mum sent _another_ letter saying that Gram was fine and there wasn't anything to worry about! I went to find Fred, but he wasn't anywhere, nobody saw him! So I decided I'd find him and tell him at dinner. So you see, it's not his fault, Professor, and I'm sure you're not going to find him now, he's probably hidden himself away. There's really no use trying to get him to come back to classes…he'll probably be so mad at himself he won't be able to focus," George finished, watching McGonagall closely to see if she bought it. A look of realization came across her face, and she gradually softened up around the eyes…success!

"Well, I suppose there's nothing we can do," she quipped, straightening up. "What an odd predicament…your poor brother. Well, when you see him, tell him that he'll get an extra day to finish that assignment from the class he left early from. I do feel terrible…" she said, turning to walk away.

"Or I can go and find him and tell him now, Professor!" George called hopefully.

She slowly turned and fixed him with a knowing look. "Nice try, Mr. Weasley," she said, with a curt shake of her head. George sat down, a strange mix of disappointment and satisfaction filling him up as he listened the rest of class, pretending to be attentive to her lesson on transfiguring legends. He even decided to take a chance and answer one of her questions that only Hermione seemed to be able to answer- he got it wrong, but she gave him five points for effort and a rare smile that made the rest of the class turn and look at him curiously

George could only smirk at their stares. Oh, he was going to profit from this little scheme immensely- right from Fred's secret stash of sweets and Zonkos! Not to mention he would gain double points from pulling a fast one over McGonagall…George closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed leisurely under his head. It was going to be a good week…he could just feel it.


End file.
